Cowgirl for Keeps. Louise M. Gouge

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СКАЧАТЬ Northam hesitated before saying, “Not impertinent at all. Beryl Eberly. The Eberly family owns the ranch west of ours.”

      “Beryl Eberly.” Percy spoke the name reverently, as Romeo might say Juliet. “Lovely. And just a short walk away.”

      Miss Northam smiled. “A short ride. An impossible walk. I’ll take you there tomorrow and introduce you.”

      Garrick wished her smile were aimed at him, but he supposed that was too much to ask. In any event, from the way she issued orders with a mere frown, he could see Miss Northam and he were utterly incompatible.

      “I shall hold you to it, Miss Northam.” Percy beamed in his boyish way, in spite of his twenty-four years. How uncomplicated his life was.

      “Please call me Rosamond. We’re not formal out here.”

      Vacillating once again in his feelings toward her, Garrick wanted to ask if the invitation were open to him, as well. The words stuck in his throat. After all, in England one only used Christian names with family or very close friends, and certainly not with new acquaintances. And now that he’d considered this entire situation, he wondered whether Uncle had made a serious error in judgment. If Colonel Northam possessed sufficient wealth to enter a business arrangement such as the hotel, why hadn’t his servants managed the baggage instead of his sons? Garrick would have to ascertain how much the Northams were investing in the project before he committed any of Uncle’s funds. If the Colonel had taken advantage of his trusting nature, Garrick would put an end to such duplicity.

      * * *

      She shouldn’t have promised to introduce Percy to Beryl. Shouldn’t have said anything about her friend’s preferences. But she needed an excuse to check on Beryl rather than waiting to see her in church on Sunday. For now, she found being seated in between the two Englishmen a grand metaphor for the tight spot Father had put her in. This evening she must speak to him privately and remind him about her plans to build a high school, plans he’d agreed to months ago. Once she began her own work, she’d be too busy to help Mr. Wakefield with the hotel.

      Yet even as she tried to divert her thoughts, ideas came unbidden to her mind. The Walsenburg hotel, where the train passengers had laid over last night, was a pleasant establishment with sufficient amenities to satisfy people passing through. But she could envision something on a grander scale, such as Boston’s Parker House, only with a Western theme. Miss Pam Williams’s rolls were every bit as delicious as Parker House rolls. They could hire her to manage the restaurant and cook her special Western recipes for the guests.

      Rosamond would find ways to make visitors at the hotel feel at home while they took one- or two-day trips to the various wonders around the San Luis Valley: the sand dunes, Raspberry Gulch, La Garita Arch, the recently discovered Indian wall paintings. They could go fishing on the Rio Grande or swimming in San Luis Lake. Memories of childhood excursions filled her mind. So many opportunities for tourists to enjoy. Maybe one of her brothers could establish a guide business to work out of the hotel.

      The top story of her family’s ranch house came into view, and all such plans vanished. Home! What a wonderful, beautiful place. After two and a half years away, she felt a lump rising in her throat.

      Father turned the buggy down Four Stones Lane and drove to the front door, probably because of their guests. Unless the family was holding a special event, everyone around here always came to the kitchen door, the neighborly thing to do. Rand did drive the wagon around back to carry the trunks up the back stairs. Tolley had ridden ahead to alert the household, so upon the travelers’ arrival, Rosamond’s sisters-in-law and their sweet babies poured out of the house to greet them.

      As always with her family, chaos reigned, especially when the dogs raced over from the barn to join the melee. She gave each family member an enthusiastic hug, cooing over her four-year-old niece, Lizzy, and eighteen-month-old nephew, Nate Jr., nicknamed Natty. Her newest nephew, Randy, melted her heart when he offered a smile that revealed one tiny tooth.

      The two Englishmen bore up fairly well, greeting Nate’s wife, Susanna, and Marybeth with impeccable manners. Mr. Wakefield—she didn’t want to call him Garrick because it suggested a friendliness she didn’t feel—rose slightly in her estimation when he knelt down to greet Lizzy and Natty. He seemed used to children, perhaps even liked them, if his charming smile and silly chatter were any indication. He even acknowledged Randy with a few nonsense words and a gentle touch on the baby’s tiny hand.

      After the chaotic introductions, Mother bustled everyone into the main parlor and gave room assignments. She sent Percy to one of the newer rooms over the ballroom, with the two valets sharing a room next to him. Mr. Wakefield—oh, bother; if she called Percy by his first name, she must do the same with Garrick—would stay in Nate’s old room two doors down from hers. Like Nate, Rand now had his own home, so Tolley roomed alone.

      After Rosamond greeted everyone, she dashed upstairs to her bedroom. Nothing had changed. The pink-and-blue patchwork quilt still covered her four-poster bed. Her blue velvet chair sat by the open window where white ruffled curtains fluttered in the afternoon breeze. On the bedside table, two pink roses graced her cut-glass vase, an heirloom from her late grandmother.

      Joy bubbled over into laughter as she gazed out the window at Mother pushing Lizzy in a swing hanging from the branch of a cottonwood tree. For over two years, the family had prayed anxiously for Mother’s health, and the Lord had answered their prayers.

      In her oak wardrobe, Rosamond found a favorite yellow calico dress, left behind because it was deemed too countrified for Boston, and quickly changed from her traveling suit. Her sisters-in-law needed her in the kitchen, and helping to prepare supper was just the thing to work out the kinks from sitting many days in train cars. Going down the back stairs, she sang a cheerful version of John Howard Payne’s “Home, Sweet Home.” She flung open the kitchen door, finishing with a resounding last line: “Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home!”

      Garrick sat at the kitchen table, his face a study in mortification that matched exactly how she felt. Had her joyful singing broken some British rule of etiquette? Too bad. If he didn’t like her music, he needn’t listen. She wouldn’t let him ruin her happiness.

      * * *

      Garrick hadn’t been in a kitchen since childhood when he and Helena used to pester Uncle’s cook for treats. Yet here he sat while Percy and the Northam brothers chatted as if they were in the drawing room of White’s Men’s Club in London, where Garrick would much prefer to be rather than in this American ranch house. Instead of uniformed footmen serving him high tea or his fellow members inviting him to play a hand of whist, a pretty Mexican girl—the family cook—offered biscuits and coffee. Her smiling demeanor and shared grins with the two young Northam wives indicated a decided lack of propriety for a servant, at least by British standards. He wasn’t certain Uncle ever met his cooks, for all communications with below stairs were done through the housekeeper and butler.

      Still, he couldn’t complain about the American informality. Here in this cozy, crowded room, he could enjoy the aromas of roast beef sizzling in the oven and bread rising on the sideboard. While the biscuits—he supposed he should call them cookies, as the locals did—managed to stave off his hunger, he could well imagine supper would be a satisfying experience.

      A sudden glorious sound from the back hallway wafted closer to the kitchen door, a lovely soprano voice lifted in a spirited rendition of the usually melancholy “Home, Sweet Home.” As the song ended in a majestic high note rather than descending into pathos, Miss Northam burst in, her pretty face aglow with happiness. Her eyes focused on Garrick, and her expression turned to shock and then dismay. Now his face СКАЧАТЬ